


Lure you away

by MinRinnie



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Based on the pied piper of hamelin, Ducktales (2017) - Freeform, Fenton Crackshell-cabrera / reader, Gen, Happy Ending, I think., If You Squint - Freeform, Launchpad / reader, Sadness, The reader's backstory is made up, weird cravings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-20 05:06:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16549478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinRinnie/pseuds/MinRinnie
Summary: A long time friend of Scrooge re-appears in the family. Scrooge has known her for a long time.A mysterious creature with weird appetites and preferences of food. But nonetheless, a part of their family.Though, she might only be there for the "food" supply being given to her freely.





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously don't know how I came up with this.
> 
> But enjoy anyway! Season 3 is coming! I'm so excited!

Launchpad had been ignored again. He had been reprimanded for his actions. Again.

He really _did_ feel like he was an idiot. The corners of his bill dropped as he remembered how Scrooge and the kids looked at him whenever he messed up. Even Dewey had looked at him with spite before. Maybe it was just him. Maybe he was just over-reacting. Maybe he was just over thinking.

Launchpad sighed and put his face in his hands. Scrooge said family didn’t end in blood. Dewey said he was his best friend. So why do they all treat him like he was..well..nothing? The drake felt his soul get crushed, his thoughts drifting back to every moment he was only a chauffeur to the McDuck-Duck family and nothing else.

Not like how Scrooge and Donald made Webby their honorary niece.

He stood up from his bed and opened the garage door, his eyes scanning the dark night sky. He wanted to see someone – no. He _needed_ to see someone. A friend of his and theirs. Her home was a bit far from the mansion, so he took his jacket and walked out, closing the garage door and gate behind him.

\--

When he arrived at her place, it was the same as it was years ago. Medium sized house with a decent pathway and garden, a few flowers growing here and there, and well… the weird glow it gave off. His hand trembled as he knocked on the wooden door, his heart pounding against his ribs while he waited for her to answer.

_Creak_

The door opened, revealing a duck half asleep, staring at him with squinted eyes. He then realized that it must have been the middle of the night at the time he had come. Launchpad awkwardly shifted. She wasn’t looking at his eyes. She was looking at his chest, where his heart whould be. He was about to open his bill to say something, but the girl dragged him inside and sat him down. He saw that her room was filled with instruments, mostly string but some were wind instruments. Her favorite was the flute. Obviously.

“After all these years” she started, taking her guitar with her to her couch. “You come because of them?” she plucked some strings on her guitar and looked at him under her lashes.

“I mean, I would feel the same way too.” The duck grimaced at her own thoughts, continuously playing notes and forming a promptu song “I’d hate it if no one listened to me”

Obviously she was hinting towards _that_ thing. He sighed again and sat beside her instead of infront of her.

“(Name), am I a nuisance?” Launchpad asked. He had felt her shift closer to him, still plucking on the strings of her guitar. He also felt like the song she was playing was similar to what emotions he had at that moment. Low and sad, exactly like that. “I feel like I don’t have a part in their family. I’m just…lost.”

“You know Fetch…” she had used her special nickname for him. It was actually a shortcut for Fletcher, as he was named after her first best friend. “I didn’t become a part of their family because I knew that I was special. I became a part of their family because I knew I had a place.”

“And so do you.” She played a lighter, happier tune. “ _This_ is what you’re supposed to feel, Fetch. That blue doesn’t suit you.” She poked at his chest, and smiled. She grimaced at her statement. She actually liked the color blue. Alluring, tantalizing, provocative blue. The kind of blue that would satisfy her.

“You’re amazing, Launchpad. You’re fun, you’re quirky, you know how to lighten up one’s day, and you are super adorable.” (Name) looked up again at the drake, smiling even wider. She kept her hands from trembling, she was holding back.“If they can’t see the good in you, then they’re stupid.” The girl felt bad for using her silver tongue as usual. But, anything to turn that blue into a gold yellow.

“Truth be told Fetch, I missed you. You were the one who would always accompany me everywhere, and any time I needed you you were there. May it be because I was lonely or just because I wanted to see you. You shouldn’t feel bad.” The girl scooted closer to him. _This_  was not a lie. She really did miss having him close.“And I did regret asking Scrooge to make this house for me and far from you. If I was there, I would have done something. I’m sorry Fetch.”

Launchpad couldn’t believe someone still thinks of him like that. He didn’t believe someone would think of him even. He felt the tears sting his eyes as he sat there in shock.

(Name) put down her guitar and jumped on Launchpad, giving him a big hug. It took Launchpad a few seconds to register what was happening and hugged back.

He still mattered.

Someone still cared.

Launchpad felt the tears running down his face. He hugged her tighter and sobbed out an apology.

An apology for not coming everyday. An apology for leaving her to be by herself.

And he was forgiven.

\--

When Launchpad went home, he wasn’t surprised no one noticed that he was away for a while. He was immediately ordered by Scrooge to take him to his office, and this time, he kept quiet. His thoughts lingered on the duck he went to see last night.

He could still feel her arms around him, how warm she was, the very faint scent of her perfume, how her short hair was a bit dishevelled, her face when she smiled.

Oh God, her _smile_.

Her smile, her songs, her music, her voice, her words.

It just dawned on him how he missed her so much.

He had been so stupid not to visit. He was also reminded that he actually had a key to her door. And that he was always welcome to come anytime.

That was what he planned to do.

Scrooge on the other side was flabbergasted. He sat there in the back of the limo, watching Launchpad with curiosity.

He hadn’t spoken a peep when he saw him this morning. His eyes trailed to the rear mirror reflecting the duck’s face.

He looked as if he was in a daze, his eyes distant yet focused. Maybe he was thinking about something weird again.

His amazement was doubled when Launchpad hadn’t even responded to his questions. Tripled when he didn’t crash the limo. He felt like he was going to die.

He hadn’t heard a ‘Bye now Mr. McDee! See you later!’ or something like that from the lad. Scrooge shook his head as he walked in the elevator, trying to shake off an unsettling vibe he was getting. Alas, his efforts had no effect, especially at the board meeting.

Launchpad had gotten home safely, and the triplets, along with Mrs. Beakley and Webby had been spying on him all day.

He didn’t say anything at all. He didn’t invite Dewey to play a game or just to go somewhere. He was…out of it, they assumed.

Dewey tried to talk to him, no use. Webby talked to him about Scrooge facts, he walked away. Louie invited him to watch ottoman empire, he watched, Launchpad swam in his thoughts. Huey urged him to explain a chapter in the Junior Woodchuck Guide (though he already knew everything) just for him to speak, but he stared straight into nowhere. Even Mrs. Beakley and Donald didn’t know what to do.

Later that day, someone familiar came to the mansion shortly after Scrooge went home. Donald knew who she was. Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth knew who she was.

Scrooge almost forgot about her, Launchpad had been thinking about her.

(Name) waltzed in and made a bee line towards Scrooge’s office. The kids looked at her from a safe distance. The triplets asked Webby who she was, and for the first time ever, she didn’t know.

“Hello Scrooge.” She greeted. “You’ve been a bad man!” she teased, patting Scrooge’s face and proceeded to ruthlessly slap him. The kids gasped, the older ones didn’t.

“For the time we’ve known each other, I still cannae get used to your attacks.” Scrooge grumbled, rubbing his face where he was rudely smacked. “If you’re gonna keep me away, do it properly.” She countered.

“Wait, wait wait… You know each other?!” Louie asked. “How long?”

“Long enough for me to be allowed to disrespect him.” (Name) responded, glaring at the old duck sitting on his chair. “Hi. I’m (Name). Scrooge’s walking treasure.” She held out her hand for the children to shake. Webby shook it with intense enthusiasm.

Launchpad felt something. He wanted to say something. He just didn’t know what.

He eavesdropped at their conversation even when she insisted for everyone to leave.

“- know how I get when I see it turn blue!”

“I know, lass! But you just cannae take it from ‘im and leave like ye did to-!”

“If you had been treating him right I wouldn’t need to do that!”

(Name)’s voice grew louder than Scrooge’s.

“What do ye mean ‘treating him right’?”

Then another slap was heard.

“Curse me kilts! What is wrong with ye?!”

“You’re telling me…that you don’t even know that you’re hurting him emotionally?!”

Launchpad left quickly after that. He didn’t want to know more. He felt it again. Like his soul was sinking. He sighed and locked himself in the garage, and tried to flush out his feelings with Darkwing Duck movies.

Meanwhile in Scrooge’s office, (Name) keeled over, groaning and holding her stomach. Scrooge was immediately by her side, asking what was happening.

“I’m hungry, Scrooge. And Launchpad isn’t helping.” She whined, falling over onto the ground. She remembered how tasty it looked. The bright blue color of his depressed soul was so tempting. How it pumped and beckoned her to take away the blue hue and replace it with its golden yellow. She was aware that she was drooling.

“Hang in there lass. I think I still have some of that foodstuff that will satisfy your hunger.” Scrooge supported (Name) up and walked her to the kitchen, sitting her down on the chairs and placing a jar with blue goo in it.

She gasped and snarfed it down, not even a speck left. (Name) wiped her mouth clean with her sleeve and looked at the elder duck. “In all the years that I’ve been tending to Duckburg, his is the one that I crave most. I don’t know why. You have to let me take it, Scrooge. Please, please… Don’t let me starve.” She was nearly crying.

Scrooge fell silent. He weighed his options and he still knew that (Name) had to take it.

The scottish duck sighed and grumbled. “Fine, fine. Just don’t hurt him like the last time.” He walked away, leaving the girl to do what she wanted.

(Name) smiled, and walked swiftly to the garage, waving her hand to call on her flute. It materialized in her hand, and she smiled widely. Little did she know, Webby was watching her from the vents.

Behind the door she danced and played her flute, visible notes coming from the flute were wafting in the air and squeezing themselves into the cracks of the garage door. She opened the door and snuck in, Webby following straight after.

She noticed that Launchpad had fallen asleep, not because of weariness, but because of the music being played by (Name). She was feeling a bit tired herself.

Soon enough, she was looming over him, a finger on his chest where a bright blue glowed ominously. Webby’s jaw was wide open as she watched (Name) swirl her finger and stick it into Launchpad’s chest, dragging out what seemed to be a blue orb out of it, and eating it whole.

She almost puked.

Then, a light brighter than before shone, blinding her temporarily. “Ah, Launchpad. Thanks for the meal. I’m sorry I had to do that. At least you didn’t end up like Fletcher.” She muttered, brushing her fingers against Launchpad’s feathers. Her face fell as she remembered what she had done to her best friend, Alan Robert Fletcher. The look on his face still haunted her to this day.

Webby then recalled. She finally recalled.

This was in an entirely different chapter of her book about Scrooge.

 

 

This was the creature who fed on negativity, who used their music and words to let anyone in sorrow trust them.

 

 

This was the Pied Piper who lured away sadness, by eating it themself.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyro and (Name) aren't in good terms in their first meeting.
> 
> But Fenton is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already put in some colors and flavors of emotions. Much like real food, reader has a preference and is sometimes picky of what she'll eat.

After Webby saw what (Name) did, she gathered the triplets and dragged her up to her room. She then proceeded to get her glitter smothered book about Scrooge, flipping it to a certain page.

"Webby?" Huey called "If you're gonna show us something do it quick. I need to meet up with the leader of my Junior Woodchuck patrol group later." He didn't want to miss it. Not when the leader is putting all of his faith in the duckling. The eldest triplet got no answer until..

"I KNEW IT!" Webby exclaimed, holding up her book. "Remember when (Name) introduced herself and said that she was Uncle Scrooge’s ‘walking treasure’?” The triplets nodded in reply.

“Well, here she is! The Pied Piper of Melancholia, found by Scrooge back in 2005.” Webby showed a picture of what looked like a younger version of (Name). She wore a pristine white turtleneck sweater with a harness snaking around her torso and attached to her black skirt. The headjoint of her silver flute was seen. They assumed she used that harness to store her flute on her back.

“Listen to this,” the girl cleared her throat and read a passage in her book. “The Pied Piper of Melancholia is known to seek emotions from people to use as sustenance, mostly negative. They can see the soul of a person in the shape of a heart, and its color indicates the emotion felt by that person. They can also sense if someone within their range is feeling.”

“Pied Piper of Melancholia? Uh…are you sure about this Webby? I’m pretty sure it’s just some fairytale. What was it? Hamilton?” Louie squinted his eyes as he spoke. “Ugh. It’s Hamelin, Louie. Hamelin.” Huey intervened, rubbing his temples.

“Can you please just let me speak? Thank you.” The girl groaned and continued.

“The most common and craved color of the Pied Piper is the color blue which shows sadness. The shade of the color depends on the weight of the reason they felt. Light blue pertains to a petty reason, while oxford blue pertains to a heartwrenching grief. Their skill doesn’t end in playing the flute or any other instrument.” Webby took a moment to pause and catch her breath.

“They also have their silver tongue, which they use to let people trust them, thus gaining their sustenance. Sometimes, they harvest sadness to make ‘emergency food’ whenever they cannot find any source. It’s called ‘Achlys tears’. A blue mix with a fuzzy texture. All of this information is gathered from a piper I have met this year, 6th of may 2005 in Westminster, London and has been coming along with me. Her name is (Name) Plume, 15 when I found her.”

“She was Scrooge’s walking treasure, since she was the only magical thing that wasn’t trying to kill him, and was of important value for some reason!”

She closed the book and smiled, but they were still confused. “Seriously? I need to go, The leader of my patrol group will _not_ be happy when I get in late.” Huey was getting ready to leave, when a voice came from behind them.

“Actually, he kept me because I begged him to take me away from London. I ate away his sadness and he payed me with shelter and really good friends and family including himself. I said I was his walking treasure since I knew that he considered his family as his treasure, his most prized possesion, so I think all of you are Scrooge’s walking treasure.” (Name) smiled, sitting down on the floor with them.

Huey and Dewey gaped at her composure. Has she not been listening in to their little discussion?

“Aren’t you mad that we’re talking about you? Like, without you knowing?” Dewey asked, scratching his arm, and avoiding eye contact with the older duck in the room. “Haha!” (Name) giggle and ruffled Dewey’s hair. “Of course not, sweetie. I like being talked about. Just in the good way.”

(Name) smiled fondly at the kids in front of her. She remembered her first meal from a bunch of kids at the orphanage who were devastated of not being chosen to be adopted. They were four in total, too. She noticed Louie had been thinking.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘ate away his sadness’? Isn’t Uncle Scrooge like, _really_ happy when he goes adventuring?” the hoodie clad duckling shoved his hands into his pockets and fidgeted. “Heh..You don’t have to know what I meant, little man.” (Name)’s brows creased, thinking back to when Della disappeared and Scrooge fell into a spiral of sorrow and grief. It had only been a year when Fletcher… she shook her head. She didn’t want to think about that now.

“Well, I think I should be going now. Bye guys, bye (Name)!” Huey waved before jumping down and scurrying outside to report to his leader. The kids who were left bombarded her with questions.

“You were 15 in 2005 so that means you’re 28 right now, right?”

“What was Uncle Scrooge like back then?”

“How did he find you?”

“Did you ever use your silver tongue to con money from someone?”

(Name) laughed and waved her hands around. “Calm down guys. Let’s go downstairs and have a snack while I ‘entertain’ your questions.” She made sure she had her flute with her and led the children down and spoke to them for hours, each getting to know the piper better.

“Is like, normal food okay for you too?” Louie asked, opening another Pep can after downing ten earlier. “You haven’t been touching that bag of chips I gave you”

“Yeah,” Webby followed, munching on biscuits. She wiped her face before continuing. “’Cause… emotions are food for _you_. But are they the only food you can consume?”

“I…actually don’t have taste buds for actual food. They taste like nothing, but I can feel the temperature of it. Like, a cold glass of water, or a hot coffee. Caffeine does nothing to me by the way.” (Name) poked at the chips infront of her. “I just like eating emotions than eating things I can’t taste.”

“Oh! I got one!” Dewey scooted his chair closer to (Name)’s. “You said you can materialize emotions so you can eat it, right? What if you fed a normal person the embodiment of sadness? Hah! You guys couldn’t come up with that!” Dewey crossed his arms with a smug look on his face.

“Good question bluebell. Would you like to find out?” (Name) had sensed someone had been feeling down just at the other side of the city. “Really? Wouldn’t that kill me or something?” Dewey leaned back, fidgeting with his hands. “Probably won’t.” (Name) responded, smiling to herself.

The boy wouldn’t die, of course. He’ll just feel what the owner of the emotion was feeling. She knew since Della dared her to feed her some, and she went crying for hours. The ‘victim’ had gone through a breakup. (Name) thought it was hilarious.

“There you are Lass! I’ve been looking everywhere for ye! I need ye to come with me to the money bin. There’s someone I need to introduce to ye.” Scrooge suddenly opened the door, startling the piper and the kids. “Oh! The money bin?” Louie almost got out of his seat.

Almost.

“Ah ah ah! Just (Name), lad. Just (Name).” Scrooge called her over, and (Name) stood up and walked towards him. “I’ll be back with your special snack, Bluebell!” the piper called over her shoulder, and climbed into his limo.

“Why do ye call Dewey Bluebell? It sounds like a lass’ name.” Scrooge frowned at the girl beside him. He still hasn’t recovered from the shock that (Name) _actually_ went to his house straight after she had specifically asked to keep her away from his family after what happened to Fletcher and didn’t come back after 9 years.

“I like it. Besides, he doesn’t seem to mind. It’s kind of adorable and endearing. Like Dewey.” (Name) replied, smiling to herself. “I uh..” she started to fidget in her seat. “I’m sorry I slapped you, Scrooge.”

The elder Duck’s brows shot up from her apology. His eye twitched as his hand reached up to where she had hurt him.

“I think I was just being protective about Launchpad. I just…I didn’t want my craving control me.” She spoked in a hushed tone, afraid that the duck in the driver’s seat might hear her. She clutched her flute tightly, knuckles turning white.“I didn’t want him to end up like Fletcher, Scrooge. I don’t want him to end up d-”

“That’s enough, lass.” Scrooge put his hand on her shoulder. He remembered that she cried so much after she realized what she did, and then begged him to make her a house far from his mansion. It was partially his fault, and he’s still afraid to admit it.

“Mr. McDee? We’re here now.” Launchpad’s muffled voice reached their ears, breaking the silence. They both went out of their doors, and while Scrooge waited for the elevator to come down, (Name) went to Launchpad’s door and asked him to roll down the window.

“Yes, (Name)?” Launchpad asked, putting his elbow on the window frame. The girl could hear his heartrate speeding even from their distance. He was clearly nervous, since his soul looks to be purple. Why was he nervous?

“I just wanted to tell you to stay safe on the road. Please don’t crash the limo, Fetch.” (Name) reached out and hugged him through the window. Now that physical contact was made, the piper could feel his heart beating rapidly. She was losing her appetite. “Sure thing, (Name). I’ll come and _fetch_ you later.” Launchpad gave her a lopsided smile and quickly drove out of the parking lot.

“Lassie.” Scrooge called again as the elevator was open. She hurried over to him, and waited for the elevator to reach its destination.

“Oh I forgot to tell you. My next meal might be where we’re going. I can feel it coming closer.” (Name) rocked on her heels, her flute in her hands. “Closer.” She repeated.

“Do _not_  tell me that Gyro got mad at Fenton again.” Scrooge’s brows furrowed. “I just cannae get why they won’t get along.”

“…who?”

The elevator dinged, showing them a big lab. One corner had a desk, a set of computers, whiteboards and chalkboards filled with handwritten formulas or sentences, a corkboard with several blueprints pinned onto it, and a chicken wearing a green shirt and a brown vest with khaki pants, and brown dress shoes and a hat sat on the office chair. The other side of the room was identical to the opposite, except less organized, a tan duck with a white polo was sitting on his desk, a portion was filled with hay and…a horse with Scrooge’s head?

In the center of the room, however, was a raised up platform with what looked like an entrance to something underneath. (Name) was more interested in the tan duck more than the design of the lab. He was sad if not discouraged because of his partner. He was yelled at again, even though he wasn’t an intern anymore. Oh, and it was a perfect sea blue. Balanced reasons.

“Good day to you, gentlemen.” Scrooge greeted, startling the two men in the lab. (Name)’s head ached for a second from the sudden change in their moods. “Good afternoon Mr. McDuck!” the tan duck greeted and the chicken turned towards their boss. Their eyes wandered towards the girl that was right beside him, who or some reason, is holding a silver flute.

“So, you might be wondering why she is accompanying me to yer lab. Well, I thought that I’d introduce her to ye, now that she’s apparently back after nine years.” Scrooge, pushed the girl forward a bit, her almost stumbling over her feet.

The chicken dragged a hand over his face, bringing his thick rimmed glasses downwards. “Just when I was brainstorming. Perfect timing…” he muttered and walked over, along with the duck at the opposite end of the room.

(Name) frowned when “Tan duck”’s sea blue soul turned orange. Curiosity.

Ew.

She grimaced at the thought of eating _that_ instead. ‘ _Hell no I_ _’_ _m not doing that._ _’_ She told herself, peeling her eyes off of the bright orange and on the chicken’s chest instead. Imperial Red. Irritation.

Irritation left a disgusting after taste. She avoided that along with curiosity. Especially curiosity. Now, she was irritated as well, since her snack got out of her hands. What was she going to eat now? And the most important thing of all, Bluebell wasn’t going to get to experience eating a materialized emotion until the next time she sensed someone feeling.

“Well? Go on, introduce yourselves.” The eldest duck waved his hand and smiled softly. (Name) started first, her voice low and monotoned. “Hi. I’m (Name) Plume. I’m 28 and Scrooge’s honorary granddaughter.”

That wasn’t a lie. She became Scrooge’s granddaughter by affection since Donald and Della had been so close with her that they were practically siblings. She _was_ one of the people who were _trying_ to be calm and help Scrooge when Della disappeared, but something happened, and it led to (Name) shutting herself out like Scrooge had.

“Well miss (Name), my name is Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera. I am the…”

She stopped listening at that point. His soul was transitioning from an orange to the bright golden yellow that was too familiar. She was practically being blinded. The girl reflexively shielded her eyes from the happy duck that was in front of her. Great. Nay chances of him being sad again right now is completely gone.

Fenton and Gyro on the other hand, looked at her quizically. “Miss?” Fenton neared her a bit. “Oh my goodness gracious stop being so happy for a second.” (Name) winced and blinked several times. “Scrooge tell him to calm down, please. I can’t see.”

Fenton’s bright yellow faded into a neutral gray.               Indifference. Then back to that gross curiosity.

“Thank you.” (Name) breathed out, rubbing her eyes. “Anyway. Fenton, right?” She jutted out her hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you or something.” Fenton took her hand and shook it, smiling at her.

The chicken coughed, getting their attention. “I’m Gyro Gearloose, head of research and development of McDuck industries.” (Name) reached out to shake his hand but Gyro scoffed.

“Don’t expect me to touch someone I barely know.” He made a sour face and turned away from her. “Gyro, what did we say?” Scrooge reminded him through gritted teeth. “Oh, we’re going down that lane huh? Well, I’m sorry for trying to be nice to you, you ungrateful rat bastard! I’m leaving. My food’s gone anyways.” (Name) turned on her heel and went intside the elevator, leaving behind Scrooge with his inventors.

“What food?” Fenton wondered to himself. “Gyro, I think we need to have a talk later.” Scrooge said, and pushed the button to call for the elevator.

Gyro groaned and stomped back to his desk, removing his glasses and slamming his head onto the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for comments. Please let me know what you think about this story so far and sorry for the wait.
> 
> and also, reader is easily ticked off when she doesn't get her food. *cough* me *cough*
> 
> (2522 words)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes.
> 
> You're a magical creature. You like sadness and blue stuff. The blue goo is actually just an embodiment of sadness collected and made specifically for you by you.


End file.
